Presidential Election: the Message

My friend Larry, his wife, Kim, and I were standing in a wooded area far away from the city. The understory grass was thick, tall and ungrazed. Some large bushes bordered a meadow nearby. It was late summer or early fall because the grass was turning yellow.

I had been talking to them about flying game surveys and kind of boasting about how I do it in a small aircraft called a Piper Super Cub. I also mentioned, however, that I often throw up as a result of getting motion sickness. Nevertheless, Kim wanted to fly. I agreed to show her how it was done.

Wrapped in some kind of white sheet or canvass, I stood on the back of the airplane holding onto a guy wire. The pilot of the tail-dragger revved the engine and did figure eights in the grassy field waiting for the blustery winds to die down before we could safely take off.

Next, I waited along with the rest of the world as the votes in the presidential election were counted. There were three candidates. I was fearful of one man because I considered him evil. I thought he was more likely than the others to start the next world war. I preferred the second candidate. The third candidate was a general named General Norman Mailer. No one, including me, considered him a serious candidate.

I was still afraid until it became apparent that the first candidate wasn’t going to win. I heaved a big sigh of relief. That left the number two candidate; and the general, whom, again, no one took seriously. But the second candidate, who seemed to know something that none of the rest of us did, dropped out of the race at the last minute. Then he said an odd thing, “My God, now it’s just the general... Now we’re all doomed!” Why didn’t he think of that before he backed out of the race, I wondered?

Later, driving home I had a premonition. I knew that when I crossed a particular concrete bridge, the war would have started. I half-expected to see the devastation immediately, as soon as the thought crossed my mind. The scene became dreamy, and the car began to move in slow motion. It was a nightmare coming true.

My dream jumped to another scene. I waited, expecting to receive an-email message from my friends Andy and Leslie. When I went to check, I was surprised to see that it said from A & B (rather than A & L). Maybe the message was from Andy and Brittany, their oldest daughter. Either that or the typist accidentally typed ‘B’ instead of ‘L’.

The message opened with a moving picture of Andy, Leslie and the girls. I didn’t notice Zachary. They were dressed, still wearing their fancy clothes after attending a wedding, but they were all soaking wet, sitting in an outdoor tub of water constructed of wood. The tub resembled a wooden stock tank. Leslie began singing the message. It was about love, and wishing we were together. In spite of being soaking wet, she was as beautiful as always, wearing a dark dress with a corsage on her breast. Flower petals were sprinkled in her hair, on her wet dress and floating in the water. Andrew sat solemnly in his dark blue tux. He also had on a corsage, and he was smiling, but he wasn’t singing.

The videographer scanned to the daughters, Page and Brittany, who were older than when I had seen them last. They hair was thicker; and they looked more mature in their red and lavender dresses, made especially for the wedding. They too were soaking wet, but cheerful and sang along with Leslie. I was surprised when they came to the end of their song for it was a sad message after all.